An Energy Healer in a Cage

^^That was a typo I decided not to fix. It is supposed to read "cafe" but isn't cage kind of a funny image?

Anyways. A couple of weeks ago, I met a beautiful white haired lady with piercing blue eyes. She was perched up next to me at the window seat of my favorite cafe that I happen by once a week on Wednesdays.

I was particularly down-trodden and for no real reason other than "nobody understands me" and "what am I supposed to do with my life?" ...Avril Lavigne kind of stuff.

I started listening to sad songs and writing sad poems.

I realized Gorgeous White Hair Lady next to me was writing poems too.

We locked eyes.

Hers were bluer.

It's like they saw into my soul and all in one moment she knew my life story...and that I was gluten free and was not supposed to be eating that pastry next to me...

I digress.

We started to talk.

She wrote novels and poems.

I said it's my dream to write a novel some day.

And she said, "well then you probably will."

WOW.

Just like that. A perfect stranger who had such unabashed faith for what I could do with my stammering words.

I promise it gets weird.

So then I ask her what she was writing about.

She said well of course she was writing about billowing sheets in the wind. And that she had to capture their imagery before it slipped from memory.

insert wide eye emoji.

I said I have trouble finishing all the ideas that I start.

She said "ahhh" like most wise old people do. She said a lot of creatives struggle with that.

She said that the creative mind sees things others don't. And that my ideas were like colorful butterflies that need not be reigned in....but that their beauty is in their wild disorder.

Then she said she was an energy healer.

And she got up from her stool and she started to pack her bag.

I was kind of lost in thought and staring out the window thinking about her words. What an intimate moment for two strangers to share. And I could've asked her for her name, but this just felt right leaving it perfectly anonymous...

She said, "I'll see you here same time next week?"

And I said, "Sounds good."

I felt like she was in cahoots with Monica or Tess from the popular nineties television series Touched By An Angel.

I meandered curiously over to my friend who happened to be studying a few tables away. I asked her if she had seen me talking to a white haired lady, thinking that maybe this was some sort of vision brought on by too much caffeine and self pity.

My friend confirmed that Gorgeous White Hair Energy Healer was real. And she said "what were you guys talking about anyway?"

1 WEEK LATER

Next Wednesday, same time, she was nowhere to be found. It was a particularly windy day, so I thought maybe she got to writing. Billowy sheets part II. But then I thought maybe she was less a Monica and Tess and more a Mary Poppins. She rosied my outlook on life. And she stayed until the wind changed.